


Don't Go

by Ticklishanimeboysaremylife



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Tickle fic, Tickling, m/m - Freeform, tickle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28704390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ticklishanimeboysaremylife/pseuds/Ticklishanimeboysaremylife
Summary: Adam needs to lose himself and Ronan is happy to help.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Don't Go

Head arched back against stained, white sheets. Flushed cheeks dusted lightly with freckles. The dip of Adam’s hipbone as he dug his fingers in, delighting in the accompanying laughter. 

“Rohohonan!” Adam protested, in a voice that wasn’t really a protest, his words pitching into a breathy whine that that flared something warm and molten inside Ronan. He fisted clenched hands into the other boy’s shirt, desperate for something to hold onto, anything to keep himself from making what Ronan was doing stop. 

“Adam.” Ronan flashed him a shit-eating grin. His fingers climbed Adam, his own personal jungle-gym, needing to feel Adam’s convulsing body against him. Underneath his shirt, grabbing at bare skin; Adam squirmed and twitched in his lap, hips against hips, thighs against thighs, ribs against ribs. He needed this too, needed it in a way that neither of them fully understood. 

Adam gripped Ronan’s arms tightly as the delicate touch strayed a bit too high, just hardly brushing the sensitive skin under his arms. “Ronan,” he warned, more a plea than a command. Not telling him to stop, not hardly. He pulled Ronan closer, arms trembling, and Ronan understood. Tonight, he needed to forget, to be pushed so far off the edge unwanted thoughts of fathers and magic and college weren’t even an option. Thinking wasn’t even an option. Ronan understood that feeling, had done whatever it took to satiate that feeling himself through alcohol and dreams and yelling. Adam’s method was different, more intimate, more chaotic and yet controlled then all that. Adam’s method was different and very much his own, just like how Adam liked it. 

Adam bit his lip and Ronan moved his fingers up, dancing them lightly across the skin. 

The reaction was explosive. Laughter spilled from Adam like a broken faucet, like a soda shaken too hard, like a mounting waterfall; like he was finally being released from a prison he hadn’t even realized he had been in and the relief was unending. His arms snapped down, unbidden, but they only trapped Ronan’s hands, prolonging his torture. Adam howled and spluttered, legs kicking desperately behind him, eyes squeezed shut. 

As he watched him, Ronan felt his skin crawl, imagining what it must feel like. Fingers spidering mercilessly, torturously, against your skin, helpless to the sensations overtaking you. Ronan had no idea how Adam could stand it, let alone enjoy it. Ronan hadn’t been tickled much as a kid, and even recently only by Adam a few, lucky times before he claimed his revenge. Each time it had been unbearable, overtaking him in a way that suffocated him, trapped him. He felt lost, unable to find his way in an endless tangle of fingers and laughter. 

But maybe that was what Adam liked about it. Losing himself to something bigger than him. Feeling completely helpless and yet knowing you could stop it at any moment if he wanted to. Choosing not to. A controllable chaos. 

Adam couldn’t stand it for very long, never could even when he insisted to Ronan that it was okay, he liked it. The sensations were too much, too fast, and after a moment his hands found Ronan’s arms, pushing back against him, sputtering incoherent pleas of enough. Ronan stopped, immediately, stilling his fingers but still keeping them firmly pressed against his bare skin. Touching him. 

Adam exhaled audibly, panting heavily as he tried to gather air back in his lungs. Ronan asked him often if he was okay, if he was going to far, but Adam always told him he was fine, even when it was obviously becoming too much for him. He curled up on Ronan’s chest, his head knocking against his collarbone. Ronan curled an arm around him, pressing into the small of his back and tugging his tiny form against him. It wasn’t that Adam was short, necessarily, he was actually quite tall, but the skinny frame revealing sharp, bony edges, often gave him the look of being small and fragile. Breakable. 

Ronan hummed possessively, aggressively, resting his chin atop Adam’s head. Ronan only ever did anything aggressively, even affection. Adam laughed at that, the sound a rumble against his throat. Ronan was amazed he still had laughter yet. 

“Never go anywhere,” Ronan murmured against his hair, the softs tufts of it tickling his chin. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Adam scoffed, his voice muffled against his shirt, which was becoming rather quickly in the way, in Ronan’s opinion. “I’m not going anywhere, asshole.”

Ronan snorted. “Jackass.” The troublesome shirt was dealt with quickly afterwards. 

I’m not going anywhere, asshole. But he did. The words had been a promise even if they didn’t realize it, a promise that Adam broke. College had seemed like such a far-off thing, something better left for the impossibility of the future. It wasn’t something to be considered in the warm bed of Ronan’s room at the Barns, curled into each other like puzzle pieces finally finding their home. 

It came, of course. It came and it took Adam with it and for that Ronan would never forgive it. Gansey had always said school would be important one day, that eventually he’d realize the value of it, all it could give him. However, as Adam hugged him goodbye on his way to study at Cambridge, fucking Harvard, Ronan had a hard time believing it.

Now Ronan sat in a car with two people, at once his closest and some might say only family, and at the same time perfect strangers. Declan’s gaze was stony on the road, watching for traffic with a highly unnecessary hawk’s eye. Matthew snored in the backseat, his headphones tangled around his neck, prompting Ronan to reach across and fix them so he didn’t accidentally choke in his sleep. Ronan himself was curled up against the window, one leg drawn up to his chest, the other sprawled across what little leg room they had in Declan’s shit-show he claimed was a car. He listened to the tinny music still playing from Matthew’s headphones. 

And he thought. 

He thought about Cambridge. He thought about finally finding a home, about the nightwash, about the nervous itch growing at the back of his neck that he didn’t allow himself to scratch. 

But mostly he thought about Adam. 

He thought about the soft space just under his right earlobe that made Adam’s breath hitch when Ronan put his lips to it. He thought about the quirked eyebrow and unimpressed scowl that said Ronan was being an asshole and wasn’t funny. He thought about the smile that came out of hiding after years of being beat down, the smile that started out small at first and then grew until it took over his entire face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. He thought about the laughter that came tumbling from his lips frantically as Ronan maneuvered skilled fingers across his torso. 

He was going to see Adam. At last, finally. All those months of waiting but now it was now, and he was going to see him. 

Ronan closed his eyes, settling in against the windowpane and feeling normal, finally. In just a few hours, he would be holding Adam. In just a few hours, Adam would smile at him again. In just a few hours, Adam would be his. 

And everything would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at my tumblr: https://happyandticklish.tumblr.com/


End file.
